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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231649">Citrine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyst/pseuds/beautifulcheat'>beautifulcheat (Katalyst)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Maria DeLuca Deserves Nice Things, Maria DeLuca Healing Crystals Celebration, Michael Guerin being unbearably sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:01:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyst/pseuds/beautifulcheat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Other than her mother, there weren’t many people in Maria's life who had tried to meet her on her level. That never really bothered her. She would just quietly keep taking care of her people in every way she knew how. Right now, that included Michael Guerin.</p><p>She never expected him to flip the script.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Maria DeLuca Healing Crystals Celebration</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Citrine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>One of the earliest things that Maria had realized about Michael Guerin was that, unlike most men that she knew, all his bluster came from a deep well of insecurity. His anger, his bad behavior came from a need to control when and how he would be rejected. The fact that he might not be never seemed to cross his mind. Maybe that was why she never had banned him from the bar. He needed a place to belong, even if it was a barstool and an unpaid tab. </p><p>It helped that Max Evans would occasionally slide her some cash to help pay Michael’s tab down. (Michael never seemed to notice. Maria had puzzled over that for a while, wondering if he truly didn’t notice, or if he decided to turn a blind eye because he couldn’t accept that help sometimes came with no strings attached.)</p><p>Her initial impressions only got stronger over time. Michael was simultaneously the least grounded and the most <em> ground down </em> person she’d ever met.</p><p>Maria was no one’s mother and she wasn’t going to accept responsibility for Michael’s dramatic cowboy angst. Besides, even if she tried, she was sure he’d reject it, out of hand. But at some point, she started doing little things to help lift his spirits, if only to lift her own. It started small. Making sure that the jukebox played one or two of his favorite songs when he was clearly having a bad day. Opening a beer by “mistake” and giving it to him free of charge. </p><p>Once they were dating, though, the urge to help lighten his aura got stronger. It had started small. Maria slipping a small piece of amethyst in the crack between the head of Michael’s bed and the wall, to help ease the dreams that made him stiffen up, clench his teeth in the middle of the night. </p><p>But what Michael really needed was something that would repel that heavy energy he carried, clear the stomclouds. Citrine seemed the perfect match. A stone that harnessed the energy and light of the sun itself. She started at the bar, since that was easiest, bringing a large chunk that she normally kept in her living room window and plunking it down at the end of the bar, right by his stool. She began wearing her citrine jewelry too. Eventually she got braver, tucking a piece in the cabinet above his bed, another back behind his dishes. Between the cushions of his tiny dining nook. One in the cash register while he worked, to help encourage prosperity. </p><p>Someone more cynical, like Liz would probably say that the crystals had nothing to do with how Michael began to lighten as weeks slipped into months. They’d point out that it had everything to do with Maria, just being there with him. And maybe they’d be right, but in Maria’s mind, there were many ways to tend a garden.</p><p>Maybe the citrine itself didn’t do anything at all, and it was just her bringing the intention of love and healing to his home. Maybe it did. She didn’t care, because Michael was smirking less and smiling more, and every time he did, it was exactly like the sun.</p><p>She loved when he smiled.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Michael found the one in the cash register first. He’d almost thrown it out, confused. But it wasn’t a regular desert rock, it was pretty. He shoved it in his pocket, half-thinking he might give it to Maria. It reminded him of something she might like. </p><p>But then his day got busy and the stone lay forgotten in the jacket pocket for weeks, until he found another, making food for himself and Isobel.</p><p>“What’s that?” His sister had asked, as he pulled it out of the cabinet, staring at it in some confusion. </p><p>“Uh. Nothing,” he said quickly, pocketing it and going back to plating up the food he was making, shoving it aside for the moment.</p><p>Later, he dug the first piece from the register out of his jacket pocket, and looked at them both, side-by-side. Clearly the same kind of rock, whatever it was. How the hell did that get there? He certainly didn’t put it there, and Izzy clearly didn’t either. The only other person who really came into the airstream was Maria, right?</p><p>Oh.  </p><p>He felt stupid as soon as the realization hit him. It must be her. And this had all the hallmarks of deliberate placement.</p><p>But why? He was honestly mystified. Part of him wanting to just ask her, but she’d gone through some lengths to hide them. So maybe he wasn’t supposed to know? Maybe it was silly? Embarrassing? </p><p>Michael set the stones aside, grabbing his phone and deciding to do some googling on magic rocks or whatever.</p><p>It was surprisingly hard to look up. Yellow stone and yellow rock were both absolutely useless searches. But Michael tended to be persistent when it came to the people he cared about, and eventually he stumbled on pages about all that crystal stuff that Maria was into. </p><p><em> Citrine </em> , he read. <em> Used to boost concentration, memory, and spark creativity. Helpful for the associated struggles from an imbalance in the solar plexus chakra, also known as your fire center, including anger, control, and fears of rejection </em>.</p><p>Michael bit his lip a little. As much as he’d like to deny that read on him, get offended… shit,  that was spot on. He could hope that he hid his abandonment issues a little better than that, but… apparently not. Maria was always way too perceptive for him to hide himself from her.</p><p>If he was being honest with himself, it was one of the things he loved about her. </p><p>He picked up one of the stones again, wrapping his hand around it. It might have just been his imagination, but it felt warm against his skin. </p><p>Maria didn’t need him. Not like he needed her. But she obviously <em> cared </em>, in a way that caught him off guard, even still. She cared about him in a way that he’d never been cared for in his life.</p><p>So maybe it was time to return the gesture.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Michael had been distracted lately.</p><p>Maria had flirted with worrying or getting mad, but it wasn’t the kind of depressed, obsessive distracted that he usually slipped into when there was some big alien secret he didn’t want to worry her with…. It was more like… daydreaming, or planning. And lest she worry that his eyes or heart were wandering, Michael still lit up when she was around. And when they were together, it was clear that his attention was on her. Just sometimes his eyes got a little dreamy, his aura took on a soft-edged tinge. </p><p>Okay, maybe she was a <em> little </em> worried. She loved Michael an awful damn lot but if he was about to surprise her with a wedding ring, she was not sure what she’d say to that. She never thought of herself as a marriage person, especially not with the specter of early memory degeneration on her.</p><p>She was happy, right where they were. Happy with Michael’s cramped airstream and extraterrestrial baggage, his overbearing siblings and cranky employer (and low-key father figure).</p><p>She paused for a moment outside said airstream, taking in the desert night air. It was crisp and cool, the firepit down to some smoldering coals, Michael’s trailer glowing warmly through the newspaper-covered windows. She pushed out her awareness a little, feeling him inside. Warm, and light. Another good day.</p><p>There had been so many more good days than bad, lately. </p><p>She knocked lightly. She didn’t <em> need </em> to, Michael had casually slipped her a spare key a couple weeks ago. But she didn’t like startling him, so she usually knocked before opening the door and poking her head in. </p><p>“Hey babe. That smells <em> great </em>,” she said, truthfully as she kissed him on the cheek. Michael had a gift of making damn near gourmet food from two dollars worth of ingredients. Tonight was supposed to be stuffed peppers. “Brought beer,” she added lightly, stepping aside and going to pop as many as she could into his tiny fridge before handing him one. </p><p>“Thanks,” he said, leaning into her. Warm and happy, with a frisson of excitement she hadn’t felt from him. Like he was just dying to share some good news with her. </p><p>Maria smiled, and tried to ignore the soft tendril of worry, nuzzling his cheek for a long moment, instead.</p><p>“Want to set the table?” Michael asked after a few minutes, with nonchalance that was almost too deliberate.</p><p>Maria hesitated a moment. Not sure what the game was. And god but she hated surprises when she could feel them coming. But she’d opened herself up to Michael, so she really had no one to blame but herself right now, right? </p><p>“Sure,” she murmured instead of calling him out, and reaching up to the cabinet to grab the dishes. Fingers brushing by where she’d stashed a citrine. She frowned when she didn’t feel it, but maybe it had just gotten shifted or she misremembered where it had been. Either way, Michael was right there, and she couldn’t exactly fumble around for it at the moment.</p><p>So she grabbed the plates instead, and turned back toward Michael’s cleared workbench. And gasped, freezing in her place as she took it in. </p><p>She didn’t know how she’d missed it coming in. Michael had covered the workbench in a cloth, a worn, faded blue. Obviously a vintage shop or garage sale find, but clean and unstained. </p><p>And in the middle of it was a bowl full of crystals. Some familiar, the citrine having found a new home, and many unfamiliar. Onyx, for grounding, for belonging and stability. Quartz to relieve stress and anxiety. Lapis, for communication. And others, too. Clearly recently cleaned, without any dusty haze.</p><p>“Someone’s been doing their homework,” she murmured, finally and set the plates down. Confused, embarrassed, and touched. So touched. </p><p>Michael slipped his arms around her from behind, kissing her right behind the ear. “When it comes to you, I’m trying to pay attention.” </p><p>Lord, in some ways, this was even worse than a damn proposal. Maria surreptitiously blinked away the sudden dampness of her eyes. “Was the tablecloth deliberate too?”</p><p>“Communication, right?” He confirmed, and she could feel him nod. “Things always go better when we talk, right?” </p><p>“I love how that’s a revelation to you, Guerin.” It might have been a little unnecessarily dry, but honestly Michael was playing dirty, being so damn thoughtful.</p><p>“Sometimes I’m a little slow,” he admitted, but he was laughing. She could feel the vibration of it against her back, and the warmth of it rippling through her skin. </p><p>“I also…” He started, dipping his hand into his pocket, coming back out with a box. </p><p>Oh god, oh no, she was <em> not </em> ready for this. She almost felt numb as he tucked the box into her hand. </p><p>“Go on. Open it,” he nudged, nuzzling into her hair gently.</p><p>Maria reminded herself to breathe, slowly, as she opened the box. </p><p>The band was simple, silver by the looks of it. Resting on top of it was a small chunk of azurite. Simple, unfinished, trapped by a pyramid of silver.  </p><p>“Michael?”  Softly. He’d been doing his homework. He had to know that azurite was supposed to boost psychic abilities. </p><p>“Thought you might like it.  And it was a fun challenge,” he said by way of explanation, shrugging a little and squeezing her. </p><p>No mention of an engagement. She let out a slow breath, relieved. Not that she didn't love this man with every breath in her, and not that she could never see it happening, but-- “Challenge?” She asked, puzzling over that. “Did you <em> make </em> this?” </p><p>Michael’s flush and half-nod was confirmation enough. Suddenly, the only thing she wanted was to be kissing him. </p><p>So she twisted in his arms, took his stubbly stupid face in her hands. “Good thing I like slow and sweet,” she murmured, taking in his slightly quizzical expression before she kissed him as slowly and sweetly as she possibly could.</p><p>When they finally broke apart, Michael’s eyes stayed closed, mouth slack. Looking just a little dazed. This was the way she liked him best, too overwhelmed with love and happiness to dwell on how shitty life could be. </p><p>“Finish dinner, babe.” She stroked his curls back, enjoying the softness of them, like silk twining around her fingers. </p><p>“Kay,” he agreed lazily, leaning into the touches until she deliberately pulled her hand away, stepped back. She watched him return to cooking, with a soft smile, for a few minutes before she decided to finish setting the table. Eyes on the crystals the whole time, smiling.</p><p>Other than her mother, there weren’t many people in her life who had tried to meet her on her level. Especially once Rosa (who definitely never believed, but had bought her a gorgeous selenite tower when they were kids that Maria still treasured) had died. Honestly, she’d grown used to avoiding the subject entirely, pretending they were just decorations. Whenever she didn’t, Alex just tuned out accidentally. And Liz’s smile tended to take on a slightly patronizing glint that was not worth dealing with.</p><p>Michael probably didn’t believe in it, either. Truth be told, Michael pretty obviously didn’t believe in much. But he cared that she believed it. Cared enough to open his home to it. And honestly? That was everything to her.</p>
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